


Stranded

by iloveitblue



Series: Prompts [141]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 12 Days of Christmas, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 11:12:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2770913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iloveitblue/pseuds/iloveitblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where they're stranded so they decide to get a tree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stranded

They were stranded. In Canadian mountains. On Christmas week.

Their first Christmas with Phil as Clint’s handler, and they’re stranded in the middle of fucking nowhere until SHIELD finds them. Comms are down and there’s a storm headed their way - 2 days out since the storm was still in mainland. They’ll have to wait until the storm passes both the mainland and the mountains. Good thing the safehouse was fully stocked with food and firewood.  _Small mercies_ , Phil thought.

Phil placed a mug of hot coffee on the table in front of Clint. The archer paused from cleaning his gear, eyed the mug warily before looking up at his handler.

Phil raised an amused eyebrow at him. Clint was as paranoid as the next guy in SHIELD which is a good thing when you’re in this business. “Drink, it’ll help you warm up. I can cook dinner later. For now, we rest.” Phil sat down in front of Clint and hugged his mug close to his chest, enjoying the warmth of the steam and the aroma of bitterness from the coffee.

Clint was still eyeing the mug of coffee, so Phil rolled his eyes and placed his coffee on the table to pick up Clint’s mug. He drank from it and placed it back in front of Clint. “There. I’m not out to kill you, okay?” Only then did Clint pick up the mug and drink from it before letting out a contented sigh. Phil was more amused than offended at this point.

Phil looked out the window, the sky was still so blue, hard to believe that a storm was coming in in a few days. “Do you celebrate Christmas, Barton?” Phil asked him conversationally.

"Sir?" Clint looked up from his mug, big blue eyes stared at Phil with genuine curiosity.

"Christmas, do you celebrate it? or do you just let it pass?" Phil was starting to form an idea in his head but first he had to know if Clint even  _liked_  Christmas.

Clint stayed silent for a second or two before he shook his head. “I never had time. Always moving around, you know?” Phil nodded in understanding, He can’t even remember the last time he celebrated Christmas. “I want to though” Clint finished.

Phil gave him another nod before standing up and going to the back of their cabin. It was fairly small as cabins go, but pretty luxurious as safehouses by SHIELD go. He reemerged a minute later with an ax, he saw the exact moment Clint tensed and his hand flew to the knife on his hip. 

Phil smirked and rolled his eyes at Clint. “Relax Barton, I’m not chopping you down. Go get your coat. We’re looking for a Christmas tree.” He grinned at the archer. 

—-

"Sir, why are we looking for a Christmas tree?" Clint asked, trudging behind his handler. Coulson hummed in response.

"It’s Christmas, Barton. If we’re going to be stuck in that cabin, we might as well make the best of it." Phil stopped in front of a huge tree, towering over them like the Eiffel tower. "What about this one?" Phil asked looking up at the tree.

"You’re kidding right?" Clint found himself asking, because what.

Phil frowned up at the tree and then smiled at Clint, “You’re right, it’s far too small.”

Clint spluttered for a moment before he heard Coulson laugh, not a forced kind too, “You should see your face.” Coulson said, “I’m just messing with you, Clint. Come on. Let’s find a tree before it gets dark.” Clint tried to ignore the tell-tale signs of a blush on his face at the familiar use of his name, It was the first time he’s heard Coulson say it, he decided he liked the sound of his name from Coulson’s lips.

"What about this?" Phil asked, looking up at fairly normal sized tree. It was a few feet taller than Phil, but it was pretty much the smallest tree out there. They were going to have to cut it off at the bottom just to make it fit the cabin. They could use the remaining wood as additional firewood too.

"We can work with that." Clint said, plain and simple, already mapping out where to hit the tree’s stem so that it fell far away from them. He held out his hand absently, asking for the ax, all the while still staring at the tree. Coulson took his hand and held it as they both stared at the tree. Coulson with contentment than anything. 

Only then did Clint realize that Coulson hadn’t given him the ax. Clint looked down at their intertwined hands and frowned in confusion. “Why are you holding my hand?” Clint asked the man. 

Coulson seemed to register the question late because there was a lull before he replied, “Oh,” He turned to look down at their hands. “That? I thought you wanted to hold my hand.”

"What gave you that idea?" 

"You were doing this" Phil let go of his hand, and Clint tried his best not to protest the loss of warmth in his hand, and copied what Clint did earlier.

Clint rolled his eyes at Coulson. “I was asking for the ax.”

"Oh. Okay. Here you go." Coulson just grinned at him and handed him the ax.

Clint shook his head lightly at the ridiculousness of it all, and rounded the tree. He swung the ax as hard as he could and hit the tree. The sound echoed through the mountains and came back to Clint’s ear with definite  _slush_ and  _oof._ He looked up at Coulson only to see that the man was now underneath a pile of snow, presumably from the tree.

Coulson popped his head out of the snow and Clint laughed. Loud and carefree. He laughed until his sides hurt and he can’t stand upright. Coulson was buried in snow because Clint had tried to cut down a tree. It was the most cartoon-ish thing ever. Clint wheezed and tried to stop laughing, but he found that he can’t. Not until a freezing snow ball hit him square on the shoulder. 

He looked up again at Coulson to find that the man had armed himself with snowballs, even tossing one in the air in short intervals, to look a little bit more intimidating. Coulson had a smirk plastered on his face, challenging and playful at the same time. “You wanna play? Let’s play.” Coulson threw the snowball at Clint, and Clint only had just about a second to take cover before Coulson rained down snowball after snowball at him.

—-

In the end they didn’t manage to get the tree because by the time they finished their fight, they were both soaked to the bone and were going to suffer hypothermia if they didn’t warm themselves up.  _Maybe tomorrow we could actually get the tree,_  Phil thought. 

He handed Barton a cup of hot chocolate and sat down next to him on the floor, in front of the fireplace completely ignoring the couch behind them. Barton smiled at him in thanks and they sat there wordlessly for a few minutes, just staring at the fire. 

Barton stood up as quietly as he could and disappeared into the bedroom. He reappeared seconds later with a blanket. He sat back down next to Phil and draped the blanket over them both. 

"Sorry,sir. We only had one blanket." Clint explained,

Phil shuffled closer to Clint and pulled the blanket around them tighter. “Phil.”

"What?"

"When we’re not working, I want you to call me Phil."

Clint smirked, before he gave the man a nod. “Then you can  _officially_ call me Clint, too.”

Phil laughed at the word officially, tilting his head back and resting it on the couch. Clint picked his mug back up and they enjoyed their hot chocolates in silence once more.

As far as Christmases go, this was their best one yet. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Here on tumblr](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/post/105173415921/on-the-first-day-of-christmas-anna-gave-to-me)


End file.
